


Orange Roses

by ricecrispbees



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Autistic Character, F/F, generic flower shop AU, willow is the biggest closet lesbian this AU has ever seen rip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricecrispbees/pseuds/ricecrispbees
Summary: Willow is the owner of a flower shop that she runs herself. Normally, the customers are fairly normal people who come in asking for roses or other such bouquets as gifts for their loved ones. However, Wigfrid Jonsdottir is far from normal. After seeing her once, Willow can't help but want to see her again, and quickly falls in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Updates may be slow because I've got another fic in the works and I also have to juggle this with teaching myself algebra since my teacher is The Worst. Sorry.

It had been a fairly normal Tuesday morning for Willow P. Higgsbury. She woke up, dressed herself for work, tied her black hair back into pigtails like she always did, kissed her brother Wilson on the cheek goodbye on the way out of their shared townhouse, and walked two blocks down the street to her job at the flower shop. She was the owner of Petunia’s Flowers, the name coming from her own middle name. Usually, her days at work were quiet and calm. Every now and then, a man or woman would come in asking for a boquet of this or that kind of flower for anniversaries or some other kind of special occasion. Sometimes they’d even ask for her to arrange the flowers in a certain way or add specific kinds to the bunch in order to convey a message. She was used to them requesting it to mean something sweet like “I love you” or “I’m sorry”, but she would have never guessed there would be a day like the one she was about to experience.

She came in shortly after Willow arrived and got behind the front counter, panting like she’d just run a mile. Her fiery orange hair was pulled back into two messy French braids, and she wore sweatpants and a t-shirt, which she appeared to have slept in the night before. She quickly closed the door to the shop behind her, doubled over trying to catch her breath, and once she regained it she looked up at Willow.

“Are you the woman who owns this place?” She asked. Willow noticed she had a kind of Scandinavian accent. 

Willow nodded. “I am. What can I help you with?”

The woman dug through one of her pockets, pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and slapped it onto the counter. 

“How do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?” She asked, still panting a little. Willow tried to process this, startled by how sudden all this was.

“Er…” The florist paused. “Let me think. I believe you’d need…” She knelt down underneath the desk and pulled out a white binder that she occasionally consulted when she forgot the meanings of flowers for her bouquets. She placed it on the counter and flipped it open. The redhead leaned in and looked through it with her over the counter. “Some geraniums, a couple foxgloves, meadowsweet, yellow carnations, and orange lilies.” Willow said and closed the binder. “Geranium means ‘stupidity’, foxglove means ‘insincerity’, meadowsweet is ‘uselessness’, yellow carnations are ‘you have disappointed me’, and orange lilies are ‘hatred’. It would be quite a lovely bunch of flowers, you know, and very full of spite.” She explained. “Hopefully this helps you.”

“Ooh!” The redhead’s eyes brightened. “That does help. Please prepare a bunch of those if you can.” The other woman chuckled darkly. “He’ll never see this coming!”

Willow raised an eyebrow. “I have several questions.” She said, putting the binder back under the counter. “Tell me a bit more about this bouquet and why you want it, if you will.”

“Oh boy. Let’s see, where do I start?” The redhead leaned against the counter as Willow rung up the cost of the flowers and did the math for how much change would be needed. “So, my name is Wigfrid Jonsdottir. I’m a stage actress at a nearby theatre. You know the one, right? It’s just on the corner.”

“Mmhm.” Willow nodded. “I pass it every day on the way to work.”

“Yeah, that one.” Wigfrid continued. “Anyway, I’m one of the stars in the Romeo and Juliet adaptation they’re performing there, and there’s this guy who drops in every now and then to practice his stuff. He’s a magician. I don’t doubt you’ve heard of ‘the Amazing Maxwell’?”

“Oh yeah, my brother sometimes goes to watch his shows.” The florist nodded, selecting a few orange lilies from her supply at the front. “Continue.”

“Yeah, well he might as well be called ‘The Biggest Asshole on the Face of This Goddamn Planet’, because that’s exactly what he is.” The redhead groaned. “We sometimes run into each other at the theater, and let’s just say we don’t get along very well. I hate him, he hates me, and that’s that. Oh, and I absolutely despite his snotty little assistant, too. What’s her name, Charlie?  _ Eugh. _ Awful. Disgusting. Hate her with all I’ve got. That’s not why I’m here though, at least not entirely. Just yesterday, I had a dress rehearsal that was a bit earlier than usual. I was all dressed for my role as Juliet, right, hair and makeup and everything done, and who do I happen to run into but the great Maxwell himself. I tried to pass him by without causing any trouble, but guess what? The fucker knocked right into me and spilled hot coffee directly onto my costume. Seriously. I don’t know what the hell that guy drinks, but my dress still smells.” She made a face. “He tried to apologize, but from the way his stupid assistant was laughing, I could tell he didn’t mean it. That’s why I need this bouquet. I’m gonna hurl it straight at him from the balcony at the end of his next show. Hopefully he knows what it means, but if he doesn’t, then it’s gonna be even funnier!” The actress laughed darkly.

“I see.” Willow nodded and couldn’t help but feel bad for her. “Let me go into the back. When will you need these flowers?”

Wigfrid pulled out her phone and checked the time. “Let’s see. It’s eight thirty now, and his next show is at nine thirty. Think you can have it done within the next twenty to thirty minutes?”

“I’ll make it ten.” Willow said and rushed off to the back to prepare the bouquet. She grabbed a handful of each flower out of the supply in the back and arranged them into the most lovely arrangement she thought she’d made in a while. She wrapped them up in clear plastic, added a red ribbon for extra flair, and brought it back out to a patiently  waiting Wigfrid.

“Woah.” The redhead’s green eyes widened with amazement. “That was fast.”

Willow chuckled. “Well, after hearing your motives behind these flowers, I couldn’t help but sympathize with you. That Maxwell guy sounds like a real jerk.” She handed her the flowers. “By the way, normally I’d charge a bit extra for the ribbon, but for you, it’s free of charge.” Wigfrid grinned.

“Thank you so much!” She said, peering at Willow’s name tag. “Miss...oh. I thought your name was Petunia.” 

“It’s my middle name.” The florist explained. “My first name is Willow, and that’s what I prefer to be addressed by. I just chose my middle name for the name of the shop since it was fitting.”

“Oh! Well, that makes sense.” Wigfrid nodded. “Alright, then. Thank you, Willow.”

Willow nodded. “By the way…” She quickly grabbed a business card and pen. Wigfrid looked a little confused as Willow began to write something on the back.

“Here.” The florist held it out to her. “Here’s my cell number. Let me know how the whole thing went later, okay?”

Wigfrid nodded. “Will do. Again, thank you so much.” 

With that, the feisty redhead turned and left, leaving a very different Willow behind her.

  
  


That night, Willow’s phone buzzed at around 8:30 PM. She rolled over from her place on the couch, turned it on, and was greeted by a text from a number she didn’t recognize.

‘Hey. Is this Willow from the flower shop?’ It read. 

Willow’s eyes widened. It was Wigfrid!

‘Yup!’ She replied. ‘How did it go?’

‘Amazing!’ The response came seconds later. ‘He didn’t get why I gave him flowers after what happened yesterday. You should have seen the look on his face!’

Willow snickered. ‘Sounds amazing. Glad it went well.’

‘Couldn’t have done it without you.’ The actress replied, and Willow blushed.

“Who’s texting you this late at night, sis?” Wilson asked, eyeing her suspiciously over the book in his hands.

“A customer.” His sister replied simply.

“Ohh.” Wilson wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I see. Well, anytime you need me out of the house for some _ fun time _ with this ‘customer’, I--”

“Shut up, you!” Willow sat up and punched her brother in the arm. “She and I aren’t like that at all!”

“Oh, so it’s a  _ girl _ customer. I see.” Wilson returned his eyes to the book. “Just know that I’m not gonna judge ya, Willow bean, as long as you don’t use my bed for any of your ‘activities’.”

“I just met her today, idiot!” Willow groaned. “Ugh. You’re so embarrassing.”

“I tend to get that a lot, you know.” Wilson replied.

“That’s not exactly something to be proud of.”

“I don’t care.” Wilson shrugged. “Now I’m interested. Tell me about this person.”

Willow sighed. “She’s an actress, and she came in asking for a bouquet that said ‘fuck you’ in the language of flowers to give to someone that spilled coffee on her dress for a performance.” 

Wilson laughed. “Seriously? That’s wild. How extra can one person get?”

“Wigfrid Jonsdottir, apparently.” Willow sighed and laid back down on the couch.

“Oh, so that’s her name. Wigfrid, huh? Sounds...Icelandic, I think.”

“She did have an accent. Maybe she’s from there.” Willow checked her phone again. 

‘This might be a little sudden, but would you maybe want to drop by and watch part of one of our shows?’ Wigfrid had asked while she and Wilson were busy teasing one another. 

“Oh!” Willow gasped. “Aww. How sweet.” She quickly sent back an affirmative answer.

“What’d she say?” Wilson asked without looking up from his book.

“She just asked if I wanted to go watch one of her performances some time. I said yes, of course.”

“Cute.” Her brother appeared to have lost interest in the situation, fortunately for her.

_ Bzzt, bzzt. _

‘What time do you get off of work? Maybe I can convince my manager to let you watch one of our rehearsals.’ Wigfrid asked her.

‘I get off at around 5:30. Is that too late, or…?’

‘Kinda. We do have one earlier at 2:30, however.’

‘Ah. I think I can close up shop early for that.’

‘Awesome. Can’t wait to see you there!’

Willow smiled and found herself growing quite excited to see this woman perform. She was so animated and lively that morning in the flower shop and was probably twice as amazing on stage. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became, and she didn’t even know why. She hardly knew that person. Even still, however, she found herself feeling more and more hyped by the minute.

“I’m gonna go to bed early, Wilson.” She yawned, stretching herself out on the couch and sitting up. “I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“I can see that.” Wilson kissed her on the cheek quickly. “Sleep well.”

“You too, you big nerd.” Willow replied and started up the stairs. “Don’t stay up too late. I don’t want you falling asleep at the lab again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Wilson waved her off, but she knew he would listen. She went upstairs into the bathroom to wash her face, then into her bedroom. She flopped down on her bed, not even bothering to pull the covers over herself, and fell asleep almost instantly.

The next morning, Willow hurriedly dressed herself and tied two French braids in her hair rather than her usual pigtails. She wolfed down breakfast, kissed her brother goodbye, and made it to the flower shop twenty minutes earlier than usual. She figured she might as well open up early since she was already here and went into the back room for a quick inventory check. Shortly after, she heard the door to the shop open, and was surprised because she didn’t think she’d have a customer this early.

“Good morning!” She smiled, stepping out of the back room. “How can I--Oh! Good morning, Wigfrid!”

This morning, Wigfrid was a little bit more nicely dressed in jeans flannel shirt, and she bowed slightly to the florist as she entered the room.

“Good morning to you as well, Willow.” She smiled. “Listen, I know it’s a bit early, but I need to make another purchase.” She said, handing over another twenty.

“Of course. Who’s this one for?” Willow asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I need the same set as what you whipped up yesterday for Charlie, but maybe add some extra orange lilies to this one.” Wigfrid requested. 

“Ah.” The florist nodded. “Of course. I assume you need this soon as well?”

“Take your time this go-around.” The redhead shrugged. “I can come pick this one up later, if you--” 

“It’s alright.” Willow shrugged. “I can get it done now.” She hurried off to the back and threw this bouquet together even faster than the last, ribbon and all.

“Wow.” Wigfrid breathed as the florist brought the arrangement out. “You’re incredible.”

Willow blushed. “Why, thank you.” She handed over the flowers and felt her face heat up a little when Wigfrid’s hands accidentally brushed hers when she went to take them from her.

“Uh…” Wigfrid seemed a bit flustered as well. “I’ll still be seeing you later this afternoon, right?”

“Of course!” Willow nodded. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Good luck with those flowers!” She rung up the cost and handed Wigfrid her change back.

“Thank you.” The redhead replied and left. Willow sighed and leaned against the front of the counter. She had to admit, Wigfrid was rather pretty. She was  _ really _ looking forward to seeing her perform now. She looked back at some of the flower bouquets she kept at the front and got an idea. Quickly, she ran to the back and threw together some yellow and white roses to bring to Wigfrid’s performance. Now, she thought as she set it down by the front desk, we wait.

 

Two ‘o clock seemed to take forever to come for Willow, and when it did, she hurriedly closed the shop after wrapping the flowers in yellow tissue paper to conceal what they were. She hurried down to the theater, where Wigfrid stood in full costume waiting outside the large double doors. Her eyes lit up upon seeing Willow and the strange bundle in her arms.

“Willow! So good to see you!” She said, opening one of the doors for her. “Oh? What’s that?” She pointed to the concealed roses. The florist giggled.

“You’ll see after your show.” She promised. Wigfrid raised an eyebrow.

‘Well, alright.” Wigfrid smiled and held open the door for her.“This way, then. We’re on in about fifteen minutes.”

Willow nodded. “Your costume is very pretty.” She commented, looking it up and down. It was a red velvet dress with long sleeves and gold trim that looked very much like something worn in the middle ages. Wigfrid’s hair was pulled back in a tight bun with only a single curl of hair falling down her forehead, and there was a light layer of concealer over her face to cover most of her freckles.

“Thanks.” Wigfrid blushed, and Willow wondered if she could see what she was thinking right then. She was led into a very large auditorium with a large stage that was decorated with very detailed props, painting a renaissance-era picture right before Willow’s eyes.

“Woah.” She gasped, looking at the scenery with awe.

“Pretty cool, right?” Wigfrid chuckled. “Our set designers are awesome. This is only going to be a run-through of Act One since some of the people we need for Act Two had to back out last minute due to sickness. Sorry if you expected to have a look at the whole thing.”

“It’s alright, Wigfrid.” Willow shrugged. “I just came to see you perform this is all. I’m looking forward to how this turns out.”

“I’m flattered.” Wigfrid curtseyed slightly. “I promise, you won’t be disappointed.”

“Wigfrid!” Someone backstage called out. “You’re on soon!”

“Oh, gotta go.” The actress said. “Uh, sit down wherever, I guess. We’ll begin in a few minutes.”

“Good luck.” Willow smiled sweetly. Wigfrid returned the expression before leaving for the stage. The florist took a seat near where she and Wigfrid were conversing moments before, and a few minutes later the show began.

It was amazing. The lights, sets, and acting were all wonderful in Willow’s eyes. She may have been just biased, but she thought Wigfrid did the best out of all the cast. Her accent somehow made her lines sound better, more romantic, more desperate, more of anything that the setting needed to accent the mood. There wasn’t much singing, but the few parts where there was, the florist found herself enchanted by the voice of the redhead on stage. How had she been lucky enough to meet someone as amazing  as this?

It was over within forty-five minutes. The cast bowed when it was done, and Willow gave them a standing ovation. 

“Bravo!” She called, and Wigfrid hopped off the stage to make her way over to her.

“Thanks.” The actress responded proudly, her cheeks flushed. “Now can you show me what you brought?”

Willow reached under her chair and unwrapped the yellow roses. “Here you go!”

Wigfrid gasped. “Willow, these are beautiful!” She gazed at them in awe, holding them in her arms. “Do they have a meaning?”

“Yes, actually, they do.” Willow nodded. “They represent friendship. I figured we’re friends now, since we’ve spent so much time talking and I came to see one of your shows…” She hoped she wasn’t coming on too strong just then.

“Oh. Makes sense.” The actress nodded and peered at the bundle again. “And what do orange roses mean?”

“Orange?” Willow cocked an eyebrow and Wigfrid showed her the bundle. Upon further examination, the florist felt all the color leave her face. Apparently she hadn’t been watching what she was doing, because somehow an orange rose made its way into the bouquet.

“Oh.” She tried to hold back her surprise. “Actually, I’ve forgotten. I’ll have to look it up later. Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Wigfrid shrugged. “It probably isn’t anything  _ too _ bad.” 

Willow nodded stiffly. “On the topic of your show, you did really great.” She said, desperately trying to change the subject. “Maybe I’ll bring my big brother to the whole thing if he’s willing to come. I’d love to see you perform again.”

“Thanks.” Wigfrid blushed. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Yeah, I do. An older one. He’s a scientist. Funnily enough, the company he works for has close ties to the one I buy my flowers from.”

“Oh, that’s convenient.” Wigfrid commented. “Are you going to go now?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta get home to make sure no one robs the place or something.” Willow sighed. “I wish I could stay, though.”

“Mm. Want me to show you out?”

“I’ll be fine, but thank you.” Willow smiled sweetly. “See you later.”

“Aww. Bye. Thank you for the flowers!” Wigfrid returned the smile, clutching the bundle in her hands. Willow smiled, turned on her heel, and left. Another red blush covered her cheeks as she remembered the blunder she made with the orange rose. 

‘Hopefully,’ She thought to herself, ‘She won’t figure out that orange roses mean love from friendship. How embarrassing would  _ that _ be?’

 

She got home to find Wilson sprawled out on the couch, another book in hand. He was dressed in sweats and a hoodie, and it seemed like he’d just returned from somewhere and  changed clothes. Willow was a bit confused as to why he was home at this time. 

“Hey, broseph.” She closed the door and cocked an eyebrow. “Why are you home so early?”

“Slow day at the lab. They let me off early just before lunch.” Wilson replied, not lifting his eyes from his book.

“I see. So you’ve already eaten?”

“Yeah, I have. How was the play?” He looked up at her and asked. 

“Fantastic! I didn’t know Wigfrid was such a great actress. I’m definitely gonna take you to the full thing.” She kicked her shoes off by the front door.

“Yeah, uh, about that. How’s the lighting and sound? I’m not going if it’s too bright or loud.”  Wilson shook his head. 

“What I saw wasn’t too bad. I don’t think you’ll have a sensory overload there, and in case you do, we’ll sit close to a door.” Willow untied her braids and left the hair ties on her wrist.

“Oh, alright. I’ll definitely go, then. I want to meet your  _ girlfriend _ .” He teased and Willow smacked him on the shoulder. 

“Shut up! We’re not dating! We’re just friends!” She blushed, remembering that orange rose once again. 

“Whatever.” Wilson rolled his eyes. “I got some more milk and bread. It’s in the kitchen. Make whatever with it if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks.” Willow walked into the kitchen and saw something sitting on the table. It was a vase and a bouquet of flowers in it. However, she hadn’t brought home any flowers from work lately. Despite this, there was something familiar about them, and as the florist got closer she realized what it was.

“Geranium, foxglove, meadowsweet, yellow carnations, and orange lilies.” She gasped. They seemed slightly wilted, as if they were a day or two old. They were still in fairly good shape, though. “Wilson, where did these flowers come from?”

Her brother mumbled a curse and sat up. “What flowers?”

“The ones in the vase on the table.” The florist rolled her eyes. 

“Um…” Wilson stuttered. “Well. I, uh, was out today after work, and I got them there.”

“Interesting.” Willow nodded and metaphorical gears began to turn in her head. “You didn’t drop by the florist, so you couldn’t have gotten them there. Where exactly were you, then, that you got these flowers?”

“Nowhere.”

“Bullshit. Someone must have given them to you, then. Who was it?”

“Someone…” Wilson winced. 

“Got a girlfriend?” Willow teased, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You could say that.” Her brother scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“A boyfriend?”

Wilson paused, then nodded slowly, like he was ashamed.

“All this talk about  _ me _ being gay, and here you are.” Willow sighed. “I won’t hold anything against you, though. So after work, you went on a date and got them there?” Wilson nodded. “Funny thing, actually. I sold this exact same bouquet to Wigfrid. Twice, actually.”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t get them from her…” Wilson thought for a moment. “What did she do with them again?”

“Gave them to that magician you go to see sometimes, that Maxwell guy, and his assistant. He’s the one who spilled coffee on her dress.” Willow shrugged. The look of pure, unbridled horror on Wilson’s face when that followed this statement told her all she needed to know and it suddenly made sense where he’d gotten those flowers from.Willow burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching her stomach.

“Oh my god. Wilson, you  _ do _ know what these mean, right?” She wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes. Wilson shook his head. “Well, come here and I’ll tell you.” ….

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this. I'm not sure when I'll update again, but since I'm on break, it'll hopefully be soon. Thank you for reading this much, though. I'm grateful.


End file.
